


we're both in this masquerade

by salamoonder



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Boundaries, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Masking, Other, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamoonder/pseuds/salamoonder
Summary: Molly says something he doesn't mean; Jester apologizes for mistakes she didn't know she made. They both let the masks slip for a while.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Mollymauk Tealeaf
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	we're both in this masquerade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [R_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Black/gifts), [senshiofthewild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/senshiofthewild/gifts).



> I've always thought casting zone of truth on Molly was the worst thing that possibly could've been done to him. I would've loved to see more of that play out, but, well. You know. Takes place in some sort of nebulous bendy timeline where the events of 26-30ish somehow haven't happened yet but 49 has. Yeah I have no idea either.

_ “Bullshit.” _

Molly spits it out before he can stop himself. He doesn’t realize he’s said it out loud, or quite so forcefully, until the entire rest of the Nein cease talking to turn and stare at him.

“Pardon?” Caleb asks.

“Nothing,” says Molly quickly, turning back to his ale--not quick enough that he doesn’t catch Jester’s eye, though. She’s still staring, lips slightly parted, a flash of hurt in her eyes.

Fjord clears his throat. “What were you sayin’, Jester?”

“It’s nothing,” says Jester, and her eyes flicker back towards Molly. “I’m sorry, you guys, I got so distracted. What are we doing tomorrow again?”

The conversation picks back up haltingly, but Molly tunes it out, focusing instead on finishing the ale as quickly as possible. He notices Jester drop out of the conversation as well (of course he does) but trying to address that in front of the Nein is making his skin crawl. What is he supposed to do, apologize? For that he’d have to force down the weird, uncomfortable anger bubbling at the back of his throat.

He hadn’t meant to say it. He’s usually so much better about these things. Sometimes it’s hard to force the stuff you’re not supposed to notice out of his head, but he usually manages it. It had been difficult, first learning how people worked and then learning that people didn’t like it when you realized how they worked. He’d picked up quite quickly on the subtle little nonverbal cues people gave off--hunched shoulders and little fidgets and flickering eyes. He’d also realized, even more quickly, that certain people did not like it when your own signals did not match their own. People needed eye contact. And hands in certain places. And shoulders thrown back and bright smiles and a million other things that Molly learned and piled onto himself like an actor putting on makeup.

It didn’t really do much for his talent (and, really, enjoyment) at reading people, though. After the third time that Gustav scolded him for telling a patron that they didn’t seem happy in their relationship, he’d found a little package sitting on his cot. Not Gustav--there was a little white flower tied somewhat clumsily to the rest of the package with red ribbon, and it was wrapped in a familiar black material. Inside was his tarot deck, along with a good two dozen or so blank cards, and a little note on the last card:  _ Just something to channel it into. Might be helpful. _ They’d never spoken of it, but Yasha nudged her nose into his shoulder and gave him a tiny smile at breakfast the next morning when she saw him shuffling the cards.

He wishes she were here now. To ground him. To tell him to knock it off. To...to anything, really.

He glances up across the table, accidentally catching Jester’s eye. She immediately looks away.

He  _ really _ hadn’t meant it. He felt a little mean and a little hurt and he’d thought that maybe if he called her on it for once, if he swiped that happy little mask away from her, he’d maybe feel a little bit better about her stealing his own mask...but he just feels gross. The guilt and anger and hurt and--and  _ fear, _ somewhere deep down, just keep itching away at his skin until he has to stand up and walk, muttering something about getting another drink. It’s much cooler outside, and they’re middle-of-nowhere enough that there’s almost no traffic on the road and no one lingering outside on the thick clover outside the tavern. The sun’s starting to set. Maybe the dark will help him think.

Unfortunately, the universe has other plans. Almost as soon as he pushes through the tavern door, it swings open again to reveal a somewhat distressed Jester.

“Molly?”

“I--” He’s not going to be good with words right now. Fuck. He just needs five seconds to pull back together. “I’m sorry, I just. It was nothing. I didn’t mean it. It’s not...it doesn’t matter.”

Jester draws herself up to her full height and crosses her arms over her chest. It’s oddly adorable; he has no doubt she could knock him out with one punch but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s a good six inches shorter. “You know, Molly, I think it did mean something because you’re usually not so rude.” She pauses, considers. “Well, rude to us anyway.” She gives him a tiny, somewhat wistful smile. “I don’t think that was very okay.”

“Well, I don’t think what you did in Zadash was very okay,” Molly snaps, and then immediately regrets it. Jester’s eyes go wide.

“God. Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t think I can say anything good right now.” Molly sinks onto the grass, tucking his knees to his chest in an effort to trap all this weird negativity so it doesn’t get all over Jester. She crouches down next to him, gathers her skirt, and then spreads it out so she can sit comfortably next to him.

“Could I maybe say something then? I think I should probably say something.”

Molly shrugs.

“Are you talking about when I did zone of truth?”

A nod.

“Did that…” Jester huffs. “Did that maybe make you feel just a liiiittle bit exposed?”

He just closes his eyes. He can feel her shifting, moving closer. “Molly--you know, I think what you told us was very important and I’m glad you’re not in danger or anything, and you know I mostly asked you silly stuff and I think that was probably okay, but…”

“But what, Jester?” he asks on a sigh.

When she answers, he can practically hear her biting her lip. “But...I think there was some stuff that made you feel...I don’t know, like--like we all just wanted to know more and more and it was maybe not our business, and so I think that’s why you get that weird look on your face when I talk about my m--about Nicodranas.”

“The ‘I know you’re lying’ look?” Molly asks dryly.

“It’s  _ not _ lying, it’s not,” Jester says quickly. When Molly opens his eyes and silently raises an eyebrow at her, she just pouts. “Look, Molly, sometimes--sometimes my mama got really busy and I don’t want  _ anyone _ to think she wasn’t a good mom because she  _ was,  _ she was, she just had things to do and no one gets to--to  _ judge _ her for that, she’s a good mama and I don’t want anyone to think anything else.”

“Just because she was a good mother doesn’t mean you weren’t lonely,” Molly says softly, and he feels the rolling tide of his anger ebb quickly away.

“Well--no,” says Jester, and lets out a frustrated squeak. “But you can understand--you understand, Molly.”

“I do.”

“And I’m very sorry.”

“For what?” asks Molly, not to be petty--but to be sure she understands.

“For not understanding better. I understand about Caleb now, with his memory thing. I should have understood for you, too.”

Molly’s brow furrows. “Memory thing?”

“It’s a spell I have. And I’m  _ not  _ going to use it unless I super super have to.” She flaps her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” says Molly, slightly bewildered. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. Like, properly sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Aww, it’s alright, Molly.” She reaches out to squeeze his shoulder and gives him that sunbright Jester grin. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Just a little overwhelmed.”

“Is it okay that I’m touching you, then?”

“Mm.” Molly uncurls one arm from around his own legs and laces his long fingers through Jester’s little ones. “Very okay.”

Jester giggles. “You just want cuddles.”

“Maybe.”

“Cuddles it is,” Jester declares, and smushes herself against his side. He lets out a long sigh, trying to make the last of his anger and fear disappear with his breath. He leans his head gently against hers, careful not to entangle their horns.

“Jester?”

“Mhm?”

“I hope we get to meet your mama.”

Jester loops her tail delicately around his wrist before responding. “Me too, Molly. I think she would really love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @R_Black for literally singlehandedly converting me to this ship!! I feel like I will probably write more fics about them in the future lol
> 
> Edit: I am SO sorry, I've just decided to tag both of you lol. Thanks @senshiofthewild :)


End file.
